


with a heart full of hope (gone)

by solitariusvirtus



Series: Uncanny Westeros (Otherworlds) [12]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus





	with a heart full of hope (gone)

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Might be 'twould serve our purpose better to look at the common enemy." Those in attendance had fallen into shocked silence. And why should they not? The first words of sense spoken all through the evening, the long awaited contribution had finally been made. It was not necessarily that Tywin had been waiting for Kevan to speak; he's simply chosen to have a closer look at the underlings he kept underfoot.

The news was worrisome - dragons, Dothraki screamers, armies and destabilisation. Bad news, especially for a realm divided.

"Are you offering a solution?" came the natural question. "Might be a strategy?" Pycelle's obvious senility brought a moment of levity.

"I would not presume." Tywin merely nodded his head at the reaction, signaling that his brother might speak. "At the moment, an alliance with the North is of more value to us than any number of soldiers Dorne would part with for our cause."

The North had a King. They had a Princess. Even if for a short while, a respite would be beneficial. "Robb Stark has not yet moved from the location of the last battle. If we send a raven, there is sure to be an answer."

Dark wings, dark news.

 

 

 

 

 

.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

The milky white of Sam's face put Jon on edge. He gripped the reins of the horse tighter and looked the other over. "I have to." It was as complex an explanation as he was ever willing to put forth upon the matter. At least until he knew what his fate was to be.

"King's brother or not," Sam pointed out, "they will hunt you down."

A small voice in the back of his mind chose that particular moment to remind him of long-lost values. Jon considered the points raised for one long moment. He sighed quietly and rubbed a palm over his face. It did not help matters all that much at the end of the day.

Jon offered a grim smile. "Ice is in the hands of His Grace, King Robb." It was the perfect, and only, opportunity of its kind he would ever receive. "Until we see one another again."

"I fear such a day might not come," his companion whispered. Still, he stepped out of Jon's way anf patted Ghost's head, a farewell the direwolf accepted with a bored look. Jon forced his face into a mask of neutrality and called the wolf away with a soft whistle.

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rose petal drifted across the small tub, the smooth sheets she'd been placed upon chafing against her skin. "Is there aught else I might do for you, m'lady?" The servant handed her mistress a bar of soap, the blob escaping her clutch only to fall neneath the surface.

"Nay. Leave me." She rose from the water for long enough to take her cup of wine in hand and sip on it. The maid nodded her head and scurried out the door.

Golden Myrcella Lannister flinched at the sound coming from the other end of the chamber. Still, she maintained her composure, sinking back into the heated pool, her skin bright red under its effects.

There was great unrest at the Dornish court. And no surprise there should be. A sigh escaped the gentle bow of rosebud lips. Another interruption came from the end of the chamber. She lifted her gaze towards the spot. Instinctively her knees drew up until her chest was pressed flush against the smooth skin, body curling.

She wished it would come to an end sooner. Her hand searched the tub for the bar of soap that had been lost.

Fingers curled around the hard object.

 

 

 

 

 

 

.....

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jeyne lied abed, her hair a dark halo framing a wane face. She was still smiling, lips spread with a strange twist. If at all it could be considered a smile and not an appeal to his kindness. And yet she remained lying there, clutching the furs to her front. The near protectiveness of her gesture had a power over him, physical in its effects and shaming from any one stance. He wondered if she could see it as clearly as he felt it.

Gods damn him for a fool. He knew better. He should have known better. But it was too late. The time for laments was past.

He drew further back, entering the shadows. It might have been a proclamation had his lips not remained sewn shut. Bloodless, that was the sensation best defining his state. Jeyne turned slightly, a wince marring her features. Despair speared through him. If the remorse was for his actions or the outcome, Robb found it impossible to tell. Instead he blinked slowly, searching for words to offer her.

Had he expected this when she stepped foot into the chamber? Certainly not; his stomach rolled with the notions ringing through his mind. He could not even see the point of harnessing the helpless rage following.

 

 

 

 

 

 

....

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ravens circled the corpse. None dared approached, beaks releasing every now and again a sharp sound. Hungry eyes turned longingly to bloated limbs, the purulent cuts not deterring the adoring gazes in the least. It was not a sight to raise much suspicion, except for a single detail, standing proudly odd.

The heavy golden band shining upon a thick finger marked the corpse. Its prospective looters did not much care for the sure sign of nobility, yet the approaching interlopers would take an entirely different view.

"There it lies," a thin voice offered as clarification, "by the heavy boulder." Defeated by the arduous task of carrying upon wide shoulder such a monster, the man with the golden ring became the prey of another attacker.

The two companions approached, one of them poking the corpse with the end of his spear. "Gone," he agreed. "What luck the bastard has."

No more and no less than the rest of them, the other's gaze seemed to imply. "I will bring the branches."

The noble sentiment came quickly into question. "'Tis not for us to care for this soul."

"Then who shall do it?"

"The carrions hunger."

 

 

 

 

 

 


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